


The Second Son

by Antimonicacid



Series: Sylvain's Therapy Log [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-18 21:30:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22166842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antimonicacid/pseuds/Antimonicacid
Summary: The second son of House Gautier goes missing and the world stops in its tracks. At the very least, that’s what it seems like from Felix’s perspectiveThat time Sylvain went missing on a mountain top, and his friends help find him
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Glenn Fraldarius, Sylvain Jose Gautier & Miklan
Series: Sylvain's Therapy Log [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804330
Comments: 7
Kudos: 189





	The Second Son

**Author's Note:**

> I always try to be careful while writing about childhood abuse, but y'all should be careful too. There isn't anything graphic in here, but there are the results of sibling violence and the implications of such

The second son of House Gautier goes missing and the world stops in its tracks. At the very least, that’s what it seems like from Felix’s perspective. He’s ten, but really closer to eleven if you think about it, and old enough to understand the gravity of the situation. It’s the midst of winter, and when Felix jumps off his horse’s back his ankles are buried in the snow. It’s only a few inches and for the new year that’s considered light, but when he peeks at the sky, he can see the clouds obscuring the sun are already heavy with snow.

Felix huffs, and the horse’s head twitches in his direction. He hates that mare, and she hates him, and he glares at her openly.

"If you’re going to be a baby about the horse then you should’ve stayed at the palace,” Glenn says while flicking Felix on the ear. Felix grabs at his hand but doesn’t even come close to making contact. He rubs at his ear instead, even though it’s too numb with cold to feel much of anything.

“Stop talking like that,” Felix scrunches his nose at his brother. “I’m part of the mission. I’m not your kid brother.”

“If you’re part of this mission and you’re not my brother then that’d make you my soldier,” Glenn says while reaching to try and grab Felix’s nose. Felix is able to swats his hand away this time but isn’t fast enough to stop him from flicking his ear again. “So, my subordinate which makes you a ba-aby,” he draws out the last word in a sing song tone.

“Stop that, Glenn,” Dimitri says while dismounting from his own horse. “Felix is just as skilled as any of us.” Dimitri flashes him a small smile of encouragement and Felix scoffs at the gesture. He had wanted to ride with Dimitri and is still angry about it. Felix isn’t adept horseback riding, and it’s faster for everyone if he shared with one of the boys, but Dimitri had insisted that Glenn was more experienced and would be a safer partner. He wasn’t wrong, and their trip had taken less than half a day, but that doesn’t mean he has to be happy about it.

“My apologies, Your Highness,” Glenn says while bowing deeply. “I would never wish to aggravate the infant.”

Felix takes the opportunity to try and kick his feet out from under him. Glenn doesn’t fall, but he does stumble, and he’s irritated enough at his falter to return the cheap shot. Felix falls butt first into the snow and quickly stands to run at him again while Glenn positions himself to receive the attack.

Dimitri sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Need I remind you,” he mimics the kingly tenor of his father’s voice. It sounds off in his own childish tonality, but there’s an inherent royal air to it that makes the two brothers stop regardless. “We are on a time constraint.”

Glenn stands up straight with one hand on his hip and the other crouched at the hilt of his sword. It’s his neutral position. His “I’m too old for this and everyone else is stupid” stance that he pulls out whenever he feels embarrassed.

Felix mimics it, but when he sighs it sounds more dejected than Glenn’s. Felix scowls deeper. He’s determined to not cry on this mission. He’s determined to prove himself. He will not cry.

“We are aware, Dimitri,” Glenn affirms without any of the playfulness from before. He usually isn’t this irritable. Him and Felix are prone to bickering as most brothers are, but the cold, long journey spent in close proximity has left them more petulant than ever. There’s a transition, though, in his posture and the tone of his voice. He goes from obnoxious older brother to talented young knight as easy as if he were shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Glenn squints at the sky with a calm neutrality that makes Felix’s skin itch in worry. “I’d like to wrap this up by nightfall,” he says as if they were talking about a strenuous training session or drawn out game of tag.

Dimitri nods. “I have the map,” he holds up a rolled parchment one of the captains had given them upon their arrival to the territory. “We’re to search sections 14b, 14c, 15c, and 15e if given the chance. That’s a lot of land to cover, and much of it far from here, so if we are to hurry then–“

Glenn cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “Ah, what does that captain know. He just divided the land into a grid and threw darts at a map.”

Dimitri furrows his eyebrows and pushes a strand of blond hair behind his ear. “The best method is a sweeping approach that–“

“Yeah yeah yeah, I get that,” Glenn shrugs Dimitri off in a way that no one else would dare to. “Check the map again. They’re sending us to the sticks. We’re basically half-way to Fhridad and miles away from where the real search team is looking. We’re on corpse patrol,” Glenn spits on the ground. 

“Shut up,” Felix snaps at him. “If you’re just going to be a pessimist then maybe _you_ should’ve stayed at the palace and–”

Too fast to stop, Glenn grabs at Felix’s earlobe and tugs hard. “How dare you accuse me of pessimism. As if I am not constantly brimming with optimism!” He throws an arm around Felix’s shoulder that’s more of a chokehold than a friendly gesture. “That’s why we’re here,” he says while turning them both around to face a pub. “To be optimists.”

“Ah,” Felix connects the dots fast.

“Huh?” Dimitri does not.

Glenn doesn’t answer and instead enters the pub with far more confidence than his two companions could ever manage. Dimitri doesn’t hesitate despite his confusion. He’s not accustomed to being denied entry to many places and has no reason to assume this would be any different despite clearly being a child. He stares openly like one too, at the bustling business and smoke-filled room and heavy stench of the drunken. Felix tags close to Dimitri’s side in hopes that the bubble of royal privilege will extend to him as well.

Glenn speaks with a man behind the bar too quick and quiet for Felix to catch any of his words, but he does see the flash of a gold piece slide across the counter. It’s an exchange that anyone else would have missed and he feels proud to have caught it. The man points towards a corner and Glenn nods and motions for them to follow as he threads his way through drunk patrons.

Felix sees Miklan’s red hair first and the familiarity of its color only serves to sink his stomach even deeper to the floor. He’s barely ever spoken to Miklan and that decision was more than purposeful for all parties. Even though he’s technically known Miklan as long as he’s known Sylvain, Milkan didn’t smoothly slide into the general age range of the rest of them. He always seemed to tower over where his five-year seniority on Sylvain made a difference.

It was more than that, of course it was more than that. Felix didn’t like to think about it. The complex swirl of mixed feelings between Miklan and Sylvain. The way their interactions as brothers felt completely foreign to his and Glenn’s.

“Miklan!” Glenn calls out to him as if he was greeting an old friend. “An odd place to look for your brother, isn’t it?”

Miklan may feel like a grownup to Felix, but the effect is lessened while he’s sitting down and Glenn can tower over.

Even though Glenn was only beginning his teenage years, he had a way of presenting himself as if he’s just on the cusp of manhood. Miklan, not so much. He seems awkward in his late teenage body, and even the pint of spirits in his hand feels more like a prop than anything else.

“I’ve looked for him all night,” Miklan says it with the same air as if he was swatting away a fly. “If they haven’t found him by now, then he’s as good as dead.”

Felix opens his mouth to argue against him, but finds it empty of words. He doesn’t talk to Miklan much. He doesn’t really know how to.

Glenn doesn’t have this same problem, and he laughs without humor. “Your faith is as inspiring as ever, Miklan. We understand the situation.”

Miklan eyes him suspiciously.

“Corpse patrol,” Felix squeaks out from Dimitri’s side.

Miklan glares at him, and Felix squirms under his gaze, but he manages to not look away.

“Hmph.” Miklan finally snorts. “A pretty shitty thing to say about your friend.” He doesn’t sound perturbed by it in the slightest.

Glenn shrugs his shoulders. “It is what it is. Now, I hate wasting time and I’m sure you feel the same. Could you go over where you and Sylvain were last when he had, ah, how’d the report go? Scampered away?”

Felix can feel the way the air around them is buzzing. Thick and ugly, he’s surprised a fight hadn’t broken out yet. He looks around, trying to see if the other patrons can notice the animosity stirring around, but it’s lost in the jostle of the crowd.

Felix takes in a deep breath. He won’t grab Dimitri’s hand like his instincts tell him to. He is a knight in training. He is on his first real mission. He will not cry.

“If you read the report,” Miklan says after taking a thick glug of his drink. “Then why are you here asking me?”

“I prefer to be meticulous in my work,” Glenn says.

“You’re bothering me. I don’t care for it.”

“Miklan,” when Glenn speaks this time, his voice is barely lower. His body barely shifts. All the same, his tone has changed into something much sharper. Something much more foreboding. He leans forward the slightest bit and locks eyes with Miklan. It’s an act that Felix could never imagine doing himself. The terror of Miklan’s full glare, but Glenn doesn’t even flinch. He invites it on.

“Sometimes when we’re afraid and worried for those we love we might forget details. I’m sure you’re worried sick about Sylvain. Mistakes can be made in our memories. So, try again. Where did you lose Sylvain? Answer quick, I have things to do and I’m sure the same is true for you, Miklan.”

* * *

Horses can only take them so far up the side of the mountain. Glenn had found the nearest soldier he could see and quickly told them that Miklan had thought that there might be a _possibility_ that Sylvain was about five miles east to where he originally claimed. They tie the two horses up and Felix watches jealously as Glenn and Dimitri pat their respective mares on the nose and promise their return.

And then there’s the hike up. They fan out, far enough away from each other that Felix can’t see either through the light snow flurry, but close enough that a loud shout will bring them back together.

Whatever slightly inappropriate joking energy the three had carried in the last few hours dissipates in an instant. They can’t afford to rush, to leave a possibility of any stone unturned, but that doesn’t mean they can go slow. They have to be meticulous in their search, while making sure to waste no time. Making sure to expend only necessary energy. The sun sets early in the winter and its descent signifies a slow, seeping end.

The three of them move faster. Until they’re jogging up the mountain top. Zipping in between trees. Searching under rocks. In shrubbery. Looking for signs of life spilled on the freshly falling snow.

Felix will not cry.

Eventually there’s a call. It’s Dimitri who sounds the alarm. He yells out “HEY! HEY! GLENN?” unsure with a voice that is somehow both panicked yet hopeful.

Felix runs towards him without a second though. He slides on the snow and almost stumbles into Dimitri but stops at the last second. Glenn follows soon after and the two look towards where Dimitri is pointing and see some torn cloth. Stuck on some brambles, it’s a piece of a dirty blue undershirt.

Nobody communicates. They just follow through. They shrink their scope to be more pinpointed and follow in the direction they believe is the most logical. Just because there’s cloth doesn’t mean there’s a Sylvain. It could be had been picked up by the wind, a bird looking to nest, or any number of things. Felix reminds himself of the logistics as a way of grounding himself, but it doesn’t stop his heart from thundering out of control.

They come to a steep decline that falls into a small creek and Glenn’s mouth narrows into a thin, bitter line. He directs the two of them to stay up top and follow from there, as he carefully climbs his way down to investigate. It’s a slippery descent. Felix can feel his own panic spinning wildly as Glenn nearly fumbles a few too many times. They follow the creek for a bit more until Glenn climbs his way back up the incline panting slightly.

“It’s just steeper from here. I don’t want to get stuck down there,” Glenn says while tossing something wet at their feet.

Felix crouches down to look and sees that it’s a boot. Though soaked and battered, it is still recognizably Sylvain’s. “Is he–“ Felix asks with a fist in his throat.

“Potentially. Maybe not. Keep an eye on the water for anything floating or caught in the thickets. Now,” Glenn says while wiping his hand clean of dirt and blood that had accumulated from his climb. “Let’s continue.” 

And so, they do.

They wind their way farther up the mountain. The sun ekes its last light dimly through the falling powdered snow. It’s darker. More dangerous. They have to squint harder to see. It becomes easier for them to trip over loose branches and hidden rocks. They should slow down, be careful and safe, but they are fervent in their search. They move faster, a bit desperate, but still controlled under Glenn’s steady guidance.

“Move on.”

“Search here more.”

“Watch your step.”

“No, this way instead.”

“ _Breathe._ ”

Felix almost misses the body.

His eyes scan the base of the tree and without a second thought lumps the shape in with the rest of the shrubbery. He takes a step to move forward but is stopped by a twisting in his gut. He looks back over, and he doesn’t gasp. He doesn’t scream. He moves forward carefully on his tip-toes, close enough that he can see dirty red hair, a curled up figure, and a missing boot with blue toes.

Felix takes in a deep breath, or he tries to. It’s stuck in his mouth, like a bubble that he can’t swallow, and instead of yelling he pushes closer. He leans close enough that he’s frigid nose to frigid nose and he waits there until he feels a soft exhale against his skin.

“GLENN!” Felix yells. “ _GLENN!_ ” Felix screams with a desperation that he never felt before. It rips out of his chest in a fury.

Sylvain opens one eye, and Felix’s lip wobbles. He doesn’t think he should touch him. He doesn’t think he can speak. He calls his brother’s name again.

Glenn comes with Dimitri in tow. “Felix, are you–“ he asks fearful that Felix had been hurt, but upon seeing not one, but two figures there his question dies in the air between them.

There is no hesitation with Glenn. It’s not just instincts, but an ingrained knowledge of what to do next in any situation. Glenn falls on his knees next to Felix, and he doesn’t pause except to gasp out both a curse and a prayer.

 _“_ Goddess above _. Dammit,_ Goddess above. _”_

“Felix! Dimitri!” Glenn yells without instruction, but they follow, nonetheless. Felix rips his backpack off and pulls out the first care kit. He goes too fast and its contents spills on the snow. Glenn doesn’t chastise him, if anything he finds this more convenient, as he grabs whatever he thinks will be most useful.

Glenn doesn’t hesitate before touching Sylvain. He feels for his breath. He cups his cheeks with his hands and slides his fingers to his neck to search for a pulse. When that is too faint, then he rests his ear on his chest with a shiver.

Dimitri is already handing him blankets and struggling with the warm compresses. He’s panicked, and the first one breaks in his hand, so Felix takes over with activating them so Glenn can press them to Sylvain’s torso.

“Glenn,” Dimitri asks without asking.

“He’s alive,” Glenn answers. Only Dimitri is able to interrupt Glenn when he’s focused like this. He begins narrating what he’s doing. “He’s alive and that’s what matters.”

Behind Glenn’s back, Felix can see Dimitri squeeze his eyes tight as he takes a clenched breath.

“We can’t get him warm here like we need. We need to move him. His shirt is frozen solid–“ His eyes widen at the scrapes covering Sylvain’s hands. “Did he _climb_ his way up from the ravine? From the creek?”

Felix can’t stand the way Glenn talks about Sylvain as if he isn’t present. He looks past Glenn’s busied hands and catches Sylvain eye. He doesn’t speak, a rarity for him, but there’s an acknowledgement there. He closes his eye again while Glenn lays him on his back on top a thick blanket. There’s a faint indent between Sylvain’s eyebrows. His frozen lips struggle to grimace.

“His ankle is–“ Glenn cuts himself off with a frustrated huff.

Felix looks to the offending limb, and then looks away just as fast. _He will not cry._

“It needs to be straightened,” Dimitri says. “Stabilized, I mean.”

“I know,” Glenn snaps at him. “Do I look like a healer?”

“I thought you were taking faith lessons,” Dimitri says.

“There’s more to it than that!”

This is the most panicked Felix had heard either sound. “A splint,” Felix says.

“Felix,” Glenn looks back at him as if he had only just remembered he existed. “Felix go get–“

“I’m not leaving!” Felix yells already indignant at what he knows Glenn is going to say.

“I know you’re here to help,” Glenn says carefully while tying up his hair. His voice is back to his practiced neutrality. “That means you need to _help._ You’re the fastest of us.” And that isn’t a lie to placate Felix. Footraces are one of the few things Felix could consistently claim victory over Glenn on.

“I need you to run and find the closest squad and get _help_ because I _can’t–“_ Glenn’s voice breaks.

Felix’s knees shake. He doesn’t bother to agree. He just runs back down the mountain, back towards camp, looking for someone who will stop his brother’s voice from cracking uneasily.

Behind him, Felix can hear Glenn bark orders at Dimitri. “Hold him, carefully but tight as I–“

Behind him, Felix can hear Sylvain’s voice shock itself awake with an awful, ragged scream.

_He will not cry._

* * *

And Sylvain is okay. They are all okay, physically at least, and that’s really all that matters in the end.

* * *

Felix finds a soldier. Any soldier. He tells them the exact coordinates. He lists off heart rate, injuries, degree of hypothermia, and anything else pertaining to Sylvain’s condition.

“He’s conscious,” Felix says. “And responsive.” He thinks of the way Sylvain held his eye. He shakes his head free of the image.

The soldiers don’t say much in response, they understand the severity of the situation, and rush forward with torches and supplies. They don’t ask Felix to come, but he isn’t forbidden either, so he follows and occasionally directs until they find the three a bit past the halfway mark of where Felix left them.

Sylvain is carried on Dimitri’s back. It’s awkward to see, because he is still much taller than the stronger youth. His pant leg is torn, and his leg set to a splint to keep it from moving too much. He is no longer conscious, but that is probably for the better.

Everybody works quickly. Sylvain is shuffled to new arms. New potions and medicines shoved into his mouth or rubbed onto his wounds. He is carried off with a swiftness that rivals their own mares. Felix, Glenn, and Dimitri have to run to keep up as they make their way back to the nearest camp.

All of them are forbidden from entering the doctor’s tent when they arrive.

But Sylvain is okay. They are all okay. In the ways that matter, at least.

* * *

They only stay until barely morning. Only the barest hints of the sun creep above the horizon. When Felix peaks into the new, insulated room Sylvain is residing in his friend is still in a drug induced sleep.

Felix hadn’t slept. He stared in envy while Glenn dozed lightly by his side. He remembered his father telling him once that the greatest skill a knight can master is an ability to sleep anywhere under and circumstance. He’s not sure that he’ll ever achieve that. Felix stared at his brother, at the walls and the floors and Dimitri’s similarly unsleeping form, and Felix did not cry. Even at night. He did not cry.

Then it is time to go.

Sylvain’s mother hugs them too tightly. His father shakes their hands for far too long. “Anything, if you ever need anything from us then do not hesitate to ask.”

Glenn assures them that they could never accept a reward for finding their close companion.

Miklan stares and says little. When his parents break away to find a new doctor to shout orders at Miklan goes to follow, but Glenn holds him up.

“It is lucky,” Glenn says with one hand on his hip and the other resting near the hilt of his sword. “That Sylvain was able to survive that long in such extreme conditions.”

Miklan doesn’t answer. Standing there, he is considerably taller than any of his younger brother’s friends, and that would make Felix worry if it was anyone but Glenn at his side.

“I suppose that’s the power of crests though,” Glenn muses. “Lucky for your brother, isn’t it? He probably would have died if he didn’t have his crest, I bet.”

Miklan huffs out. His face switches from bored disappointment to red fury faster than Felix can breathe.

“Is there something you want to say?” Miklan phrases it like a question but pronounces it like a threat.

“Glenn,” Dimitri hesitates to place a hand on his shoulder and uncharacteristically Glenn brushes him off.

“I just think,” Glenn says through clenched teeth. “That in the future you should be more careful about your brother’s safety. It’d be terrible if the future heir of Gautier was to be harmed.”

He’s baiting, cheap and obvious baiting, but regardless Miklan is fast to grab on to Glenn’s goading words. “If you have a problem–” Miklan says while stepping forward, fast and with purpose.

“Then what?” Glenn asks and this time his hand is on the hilt of his sword. This time his feet are positioned to take an attack. This time his words aren’t carefully masked with feigned friendliness. “Then what would you do, Miklan? What can you do?” He laughs, full of an unbridled arrogance that almost forms pity. “Could you do anything against me? Could you win?”

Miklan stops his stride forward. Glenn’s words are an invitation. Miklan reads it over. His fellow older brother who is smaller, younger, and still noticeably and undeniably a bigger threat than Miklan is able to accept.

He spits at Glenn’s feet and follows after his parents.

Felix lets his breath out.

“ _Glenn,”_ Dimitri spins to face him. “You cannot do that! You _know_ that you can’t do that and yet,” Dimitri can’t finish his thought. It’s an anger that Felix isn’t used to seeing from his friend and it makes his stomach turn painfully.

“Oh, what will he do?” Glenn kicks at the snow in the same childish manner Felix had done the day before. “If he has a problem with me then I’ll cut him down.” He says it so simply.

“You can’t do that, Glenn. Their father will–“

“If Sylvain’s father has a problem with me, then I’ll cut him down too,” Glenn proclaims while thumping his chest hard with a furious fist. “I don’t care! What can Miklan do to me? What can his father? A father, so useless to not even see a _beast_ stowing away in his household. I’ll cut him down too!”

It is irrational. Dimitri sighs and shakes his head as Glenn finishes his own tiny tantrum.

Arrogant, short sighted, hotheaded. There are many words that describes Glenn Fraldarius.

Felix, however, can’t help but feel comforted at the familiarity of Glenn’s conceited boasting. There is very little substance to back up Glenn’s challenge to the Gautiers, but it seeps Felix of his stress anyways. Glenn’s vanity wraps itself around Felix’s exhausted shoulders like a comforting blanket. It assures him that everything will be okay.

From exhaustion, or maybe from relief, Felix starts to cry and Glenn’s shoulders droop at the sight.

“Come on now,” Glenn says and pulls him near. He ruffles his hair. It’s an excuse to pet Felix’s hair and shush him. “And you were doing so good.”

They ride back to the kingdom’s capital in silence. The brothers sharing the same mare without complaint. They do not discuss Miklan Gautier again.

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't very well edited but that's life I guess! Any thoughts or whatever are always appreciated and my twitter can be found [here](https://twitter.com/biheretic)


End file.
